Apple Pasta
by Star Dream Infinity
Summary: Usagi's attempt at cooking to cater for a birthday. Oneshot narrated by Usagi. Rated K since it mentions food poisoning.
I'm in a rush to prepare food for a party which means I have to quickly cook something good in 4 hours. Which means I'm probably going to cook something absolutely crazy in 4 hours. Which means whatever I cook is probably going to give somebody food poisoning. Which means I'm going to have to go to court. Which means I'm going to have to try and cook something that's not going to give somebody food poisoning. Which means I'm going to the store right now. **Which means** I'm never doing this again without someone who actually knows how to cook.

I'm at the store right now, which means I'm going to have to pick out the right ingredients even though I don't have time, which means I'm going to pick out the most pricey ingredients since they're organic. Which means I'm going to come out with a bag of fuji apples and spaghetti. Which means I'm going to sacrifice $15.30 for something that's most likely going to give somebody food poisoning because I know nothing about fuji apples or organic spaghetti. And, why is the spaghetti brown?

Now I'm I'm running to my imaginary car. Which means I'm getting home and realising the spaghetti I bought is made of something called 'whole-grain organic' pasta. But, again, why is it brown? My apples are red and my spaghetti is brown. Who is going to eat this?

I'm in my kitchen which means I'm cooking the brown spaghetti and it's a lot. Which means I'm having leftovers, which means no Burger King tomorrow because there are leftovers. Which means I can't worry about if I am making something good because we have to eat it anyway. Which means I'm checking the stove, which means the pasta is almost burnt because I cannot tell the brown in the pasta from brown in burnt. Maybe my family will not notice it is burnt because everything looks brown now. Which means I'm turning off the stove while leaping into action because I have to drain the brown, burnt spaghetti. Which means I'm getting boiling water on me. Which means I'm running around like a crazy retard on fire screaming my head off. Which means I'm knocking over the apples that were supposed to be used to make fruit salad. Five second rule: if food hits the floor and you pick it up in five seconds, it's still good to eat. Do not worry about germs and bacteria because it has only been on the floor for five seconds. Which means I'm going to assume I can still make fruit salad even though I dropped $15.30 worth of Fuji apples on the floor. Which means the pasta is burnt and the apples have bacteria, but I will finish my cooking if it kills me.

I forgot the sauce which means I am currently serving several plates of hot pasta with cold Fuji apples in them because I forgot the sauce and have nothing to put on the spaghetti. Which means I need to stop thinking about this meal because the commercial break on Mad Max: Fury Road is off. Which means I'm seeing fire, death, destruction, and smoke. Which means I'm going to start smelling real smoke, which means I'm going to walk over and see everything over heating. Which means I'm going to run around, turning everything off while in the process getting hot water on my bad karma. Which means I'm staring at the Apple Pasta I just made, which means I'm looking at something that looks so bad on the outside it will actually taste good. Which means I am pumping my first in triumph even though I have yet to see what is the average 5 year old's idea of greatness.

I am serving Apple Pasta at a Birthday Party, yes as crazy as it may sound. Which means, unfortunately I'm going to have to deal with Tinkerbell and Frozen decorations littering the area and blocking my vision and little girls in tiaras just making it better by running around all over the place oblivious to the fact I'm carrying food. Which means sooner or later these girls are going to have Fuji apple slices and spaghetti all over their dresses and their mothers are going to be yelling at me to pay for it. Which means I am going to have to put this on a table quickly, which means I am putting this on a random table nearest to the table where the girls were eating even though a little fell out of the tray. The girls are coming over to eat, which means I have yet to find out if I cooked this well enough (considering I almost burned myself to death).

Now they're eating it, which means I'm biting my nails hoping it doesn't give them food poisoning. They finish the past and eat the cake and begin to throw up 15 minutes later, meaning they're in the hospital. I have yet to find out what gave them food poisoning. The doctor reaches his diagnosis, which means I'm looking like a tortured person whose laying on the ground, traumatized. The doctor says it was raw eggs in the cake. Which means I'm impulsively pumping my first in triumph, which means now everyone is staring at me like I'm a retard. Oh brother…it was not my apple pasta that was all organic and whole wheat.


End file.
